


Undone

by nerdrumple



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Just a Silly Smut Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdrumple/pseuds/nerdrumple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruby believes Belle needs a challenge in her life. And that challenge is to seduce Mr. Gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold my legacy

“ _Fuck men!_ ”

Ruby had been muttering this phrase for the last ten minutes, after she’d finished divulging in a story of yet another disappointing blind date to Belle. But this time it was spoken literally rather than figuratively, and with an up beat at the end, like it was a good idea to be explored immediately.

“. . . Rubes?” Belle cautioned. The diner was full for lunch hour and yelling anything with the word ‘fuck’ in it probably wasn’t good for business. The sweet potato fries Belle had been enjoying on her own hour off from the library almost fell out of her mouth after Ruby had startled her.

“Don’t you see, Belle? That’s what we need to do! We’ve been wasting our time on mere  _boys_ and we are young, beautiful, nay,  _gorgeous_ women with personality out the wazoo and we need to  _fuck. Men._ ”

“Personality out the  _what_ ?”

“Is that not a phrase you have in Australia?”

“I don’t think it’s a phrase that exists outside of a Garfield cartoon strip.”

But Ruby was ignoring her now, mind buzzing. She pulled out her order-taking notepad and grabbed the pen from behind her ear. “We’ll make it a challenge,” she said, a smile creeping over her red mouth. “An opportunity.  _Men_ , Belle. The kind who don’t normally get a night with girls like us. The kind who will worship us. The kind who –“

“When you say ‘like us’ what exactly do you mean?”

Ruby leaned in. “Horny.”

“Everybody’s horny.”

“ _Shamelessly_  horny.”

“Ah. Without shame. All right.”

“We’re both rarely satisfied though, aren’t we? We need  _men_ , Belle, men who will appreciate what it means to spend a night with us. Men who won’t take us for granted, or try to take advantage, or the usual ‘no means yes’ bullshit when we’re in the mood but not for  _them_ . Men who won’t be intimidated, or feel like their masculinity will be compromised—“

“Ruby, you’re in rant mode again—“

“Men who look at our eyes _and_ our breasts. Men who really talk with us, care what we have to say. Men who can think beyond their own ejaculation. Men who get off on _our_ pleasure. Men with . . . kindness. Men with adorable red hair. Tweed suits and glasses don’t hurt, either.”

Belle turned around to see where Ruby’s gaze had suddenly wandered off to.

“Men who are named Archie?”

“Oh, you want to pick my target for me? Okay cool, Archie’s a good choice.”

Belle rolled her eyes, but her smile was wide. “Look, I’m not sure Archie fits the criteria . . .”

“He fits the criteria perfectly,” Ruby said, her eyes suddenly sparkling.

“Okay. But I thought you said this was going to be a challenge.”

“All seduction is a challenge, Belle. Consent is of the utmost importance.”

“It doesn’t hurt your case that Archie’s been making eyes at you for, gosh, forever. And you’ve always liked him. Who would  _I_ possibly go after?”

Just then, the door to Granny’s swung open to emit the local town pawnbroker and enigmatic Mr. Gold. The tension in the diner shifted among its patrons immediately, voices dragging down just a notch and all eyes averting his direction. He came up to the counter, ordered a coffee, and offered Belle a crooked smile after accidentally brushing her foot with his cane. The smile washed away as he turned around and left the diner just as quickly as he came in once his coffee was in hand.

Belle watched him go with a smile, soppy and slow, the same one she wore after he’d offered her his own questionable smile, and it remained plastered to her face after she turned back to Ruby.

“Really?” Ruby deadpanned.

“Okay,” Belle said, “I know exactly who’d I go after. What are the rules?”

Ruby showed her teeth in an enthusiastic glint and resumed her task with her pen. “The challenge we have before us is a one-shot seduction. No buttering them up before hand, or it’ll be too easy.”

“So, no dates or flirting?”

“Well, plenty of flirting and charm, but only on the day of, and yes, no dates. Just go in there, get their clothes off, make it happen.”

Belle giggled, sighed while pinching the bridge of her nose, then giggled again.

“And . . . here,” Ruby continued, “we’ll create a score sheet. First one to complete her seduction will be awarded 100 points, but depending on how good the sex is, the points will increase or remain stagnant from there.”

“And what does the girl with the most points at the end of all this win?”

“Great sex, hopefully.”

Getting more and more absorbed in her work, Ruby didn’t notice when Granny tapped the bell behind the worker’s window to indicate an order was ready to serve. Pushing behind the counter herself, Belle grabbed the dish and handed it to its orderee at the other end of the bar without Ruby looking up once.

“You’re an excellent waitress,” Belle commented dryly when she’d returned to Ruby’s side.

“Huh? How’d you get behind the counter?”

Belle rolled her eyes playfully. “Just read me this list.”

“All right,” she said, voice going low and quiet so only Belle would hear. “Everything’s a flat 10 points when you earn it, just keep a tally in your head as you’re blowing his mind. If he strips you, 10 points. Get him to undress himself at your command, 10 points. 10 points for every hickey he leaves. If he undoes your bra without fumbling, 10 points. 10 points for spanking, 10 more if it’s with something other than your hand . . . 10 points if he knows where your clit is. 10 points if he licks it. 10 points if he puts his tongue inside you. 10 points for anything he puts inside you; fingers, face, cock, toy . . . assuming they’re the toy type? 10 points if he gets anywhere near your ass. 10 points if he lets you near his. 10 points if he gets you off first. 10 points for every time he gets you off . . .”

“I haven’t even  _done_ some of these things before, Ruby.”

“Like what?” Ruby said, her tone offering genuine concern.

“Well, I’m not the toy type. And I’ve never had a man go down on me,” Belle said.

Ruby placed her hands on either of Belle’s shoulders. “Every woman deserves to be gone down on. Every woman. You, Belle French, have not lived, until you’ve been eaten out . . . by Mr. Gold.”

Belle winced. “He probably doesn’t even like that sort of thing.”

“If the amount of lip licking that man does whenever he’s around you is any indication, it’s all the bastard thinks about.”

Belle smiled but bit her lip, her body already heating up to the thought. How could Ruby be so confident Gold would want her? Would he want his face between her legs? The thought was suddenly so good Belle decided whether he did or not she was enthusiastic enough that she’d  _make_ him want it, whatever she had to do.

Ruby returned to her list. “The advantage of the men we’ve chosen will hopefully be their stamina. They’re older, likely more experienced.”

Belle wasn’t so sure Archie was as experienced as Ruby was giving him credit for, but Mr. Gold . . . perhaps?

“So,” Ruby continued, “10 points for each position you try. Missionary, doggy, cowgirl—“

“How many hours are we going to be having sex? Do I need to take off work for this?”

Ruby ignored her. “For this challenge, try to at least end up in cowgirl. Ride him into the sunset. In fact . . . you won’t be awarded your 100 points unless you’re both completely naked, you’re on top riding him, and . . . it’s at their place of business.”

“Their  _work_ ?”

“His pawn shop. Archie’s office.”

“Well, great. You can at least schedule a private session with yours. With my luck my father will walk in on me spinning Gold’s tie around my neck.”

“If you’re doing it right, he’ll flip that sign to ‘closed’ and lock the door for you. We’re not sloppy, Belle, we’re ladies.”

“Ladies who plan on treating men like objects. We’re wonderful, yes.”

“Belle, what part of centuries of oppression and the wacky idea that women don’t crave sex as much as men don’t you understand?”

Belle giggled again. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I understand.”

“Good. Besides, it’s not just about the sex, but the aftercare too. 10 points for cuddling and whispered sweet nothings and kisses and all that. Oh, and try to take and leave behind a token.”

“Like, I keep his tie?”

“And leave behind your panties,” Ruby said, eyebrows wiggling.

She wrote down a few more things, kiss placement and dirty words to earn them points, until eventually Belle had to go back to work.

“All right, take my pinky,” Ruby said.

“Um . . . ok.”

“It’s oath-making time.”

“This requires an oath?”

“We. The Sisterhood of the . . . Discarded Pants. No, panties. Sisterhood of the Discarded Panties. Do solemnly swear to—“

Granny hit the order up bell again, and this time Ruby definitely heard it as it threw her out of her reverie.

“Fuck our men silly,” Belle finished for her in a mischievous smiling whisper.

“Right,” Ruby said, smiling back. They embraced pinkies, kissed their thumbs, and then released the secret handshake. “We’ll hash this out more later,” Ruby said as she waved goodbye to Belle who turned to head back to the library.

On her walk, Belle tried to quell feelings of apprehension and guilt, but they simply weren’t there. She stopped humoring the part of herself that told her to feel shame, because Ruby herself had called them  _shameless_ . So that was what she would be, and she would freely picture the buttons of Mr. Gold’s suit sliding one by one to the floor, undone by her fingers, undone by her teeth, until Mr. Gold was undone beneath her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was tempting to use Lacey for this fic, as she’s Belle’s more sexy counterpart, but I wanted to explore the idea of a more overtly sexual Belle. In the context of a ridiculously contrived romcom plot, of course. K. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

The idea that these men would willingly hop into bed with them at a mere suggestion didn’t seem too crazy, but these weren’t horny frat boys. They were sophisticated men, respected in their proper fields, even if one was more feared where the other was unobstructive.

Gold seemed like such the dominating type that Belle was worried he’d simply raise an eyebrow and point a finger out the door telling her to leave if she so much as pursed her lips in his direction. But the idea of wrapping her legs around him was so tempting she was crazy enough to give it a go anyway. And Ruby had made it sound like failure was next to impossible.

“But I’ve never even _seen_ him with a woman. Maybe we’re not his type,” Belle suggested.

“Maybe he’s just too cranky to get anyone into his bed. Maybe you’re the first person to make goo-goo eyes at him in over a century. There are many maybes before us Belle, and we must turn them into stepping stones, not stumbling blocks.”

“You are the _worst_ self-help book ever written.”

“I’m not self-help, I’m erotica. Now. Tell me how you’re planning on getting Mr. Gold into your panties.”

She had divulged her plan to Ruby, who supplied suggestions here and there, some valid and some utterly ridiculous. Her own plans for Archie seemed astronomically wild to Belle.

“Did you really schedule a time with him? That makes you his _client_ , which probably makes what you’re about to do a risk to his career. Plus, the appointment will show up on your insurance. _Granny’s_ insurance.”

“Actually . . .” Ruby started, then explained some plan of how she’d been monitoring Archie’s habits, knew just when he left for lunch each day, would intercept him on the street, get an invite back to his office, utilize the office desk after convincing him to reschedule some clients . . .

“ _Rubes . . ._ ” Belle said, head in her hands.

“Won’t show up on my insurance,” Ruby smiled smugly. “But back to you. How are you going to get Gold to authenticate your purchase?" 

“Well, you see,” Belle started slowly, “I’ll be wearing it.”

 

\--

 

There were too many damn ways to score this thing and every time Belle ran through the list in her mind it started to clam her up and lose any semblance of arousal as her nerves overtook her. _Just focus on the top three Ruby laid out_ , Belle told herself.

_Both naked._

_Me on top._

_His place of work_.

Everything else was just extra. Honestly, the list was just every sex act known to man with 10 points tacked onto each one. To try and tackle all of them, they’d be having sex for a solid week.

Which wouldn’t be terrible.

Because she liked Mr. Gold. _Really_ liked him.

She smoothed down her skirt one last time and headed towards his shop. She had dressed with great care that morning, trying to choose an outfit that would reflect his own aesthetic. A formfitting black chiffon top that hugged her breasts beautifully with a sweetheart neckline. A high-waisted burgundy circle skirt that showed off her exceptional legs. And sky high black heels, of course, tiny buckles strapping them to her ankles.

Her makeup was sultry but demure, a muted smokey eye with soft pink lips. It was morning, after all. Her hair was half up and half down, sparse curls tucked into place behind her head to emphasize the curve of her neck. Each curve was curated to kill the man before he removed a stitch of fabric.

But underneath it all, that’s what mattered most.

It was very early on a Saturday morning. Yesterday Ruby had made her go at Archie, and since Belle still hadn’t heard from her she assumed it had gone over more than well. She hoped her own weekend would end up being equally booked.

His shop had Saturday hours every other week from 8 till noon. It was now 7:30, and she’d been monitoring him enough to know that he definitely arrived early to the shop despite the _closed_ sign that taunted her. With luck, that sign would never be flipped over.

She peeked into what little gaps were available through the blinds, and could hardly see his figure inside, but she was sure he was there. She rapped gently on the door.

The perhaps-him figure stilled, then moved towards the entrance. He peered through the blinds at her cautiously before unlocking the door.

“Miss French,” he said, amiably, “I’m afraid I’m not open for another half hour.”

She beamed a smile up at him despite her original plan to be coy and he raised his eyebrows.  

“. . . but something tells you already knew that.”

“Yes, well,” she said, and then moved to push past him into the shop. It was a bold move, and she banked on his surprise and interest in her to prevent him from having enough time to think of stopping her. Once inside, she pressed her back to the door, closing it and fumbling carefully with the lock. She didn’t turn it just yet; she didn’t want the sound of its _click_ to be off-putting.

Gold stepped back, but not far. His eyes were drawn down in suspicion but he hadn’t asked her to leave yet so she barreled through with her request, locking the door once her voice was able to drown out the turn.

“I was hoping you could authenticate something for me,” she said. “I bought something online and I’m not sure if it’s the genuine article.”

He drew up his height and dropped his cane to the floor in the middle of himself, hands placed firmly atop the handle. “And this required my pre-hours attention?”

He was trying to be stern with her, she knew. But she saw the way his eyes dipped down to her chest and waist, and the way his tongue darted out at the vision of her legs.

“Oh yes,” she said, “You see, it’s a delicate matter.”

“Delicate?” If his eyebrow quirked any higher it’d bury itself in his forehead.

“The listing said it was authentic, you see, never been worn before. And another article I read said I’d know it was genuine if the netting had a snug fit upon first try. The netting is supposed to be slightly stretched if it’s been worn before. So I put it on, and it fits snug, but I’m still not sure. I was hoping you could help me.”

“Miss French,” he said, wary as she stepped forward. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“Eve’s Leaves,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes.

His breath hitched, and he tilted his head. “You have a pair of Eve’s Leaves?”

“Well, I hope I do. Authentic lingerie from the 1940s is hard to come by. Especially a pair that’s never been wore before. Well, before now, anyway.”

“Are you,” he coughed, “are you wearing the pair now?”

“I am,” she said,

His cane tapped up and down a few times for no reason at all.

“You have them _on_ you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed. She reached down for the hem of her skirt. His eyes washed over her in a manner not so different from the way he had done so many times before, but there was a question in his eyes once they landed on her own.

It was time to start earning her points.

She rose the burgundy skirt, allowing a flash of the top of her thigh high stockings to appear, sheer black with a lovely lace hem at the top. He’d have seen the vintage lingerie in question had he not doubled over himself on his way to push her skirt back down as quickly as possible.

“What game are you playing at, Miss French?” he demanded.

“I’m trying to seduce you,” she blurted, suddenly choked by the fear that Ruby was wrong after all.

“Why? Are you after an extension on your rent?”

“I . . . I don’t pay rent to you.”

“Aye. Yes.” He shook his head, muddled for some reason. “Your father, then, an extension for him?”

“No,” she said.

“A friend?”

“ _No_ ,” she said.

“Are you after a loan? This isn’t how I normally go about loans.”

“No, Mr. Gold.”

“Then _why_ , in God’s name, are you locking the door when you think I won’t notice and flashing your lovely arse at me?”

She sighed, then smiled up at him. “Because you bump me with your cane,” she said quietly, “because I’m the only one in town you smile at. Because I like you, Mr. Gold. Do you like me?”

“Very much,” he choked.

“Then may we continue?”

“Yes.”

She lifted up the skirt again, and he stood back, looking at her.

The expression on his face was one of awe. The burgundy skirt raised to reveal a pair of French cut knickers, in sheer nylon black netting, hugging her pale skin deliciously. A scalloped hem skimmed the juncture where her thighs began, and the trademark satin fig leaf of its namesake was stitched in beautiful detail against her most intimate area.

She followed his gaze briefly, suddenly feeling too heated to even take in his stare. She tried to pull back the blush that now painted her skin, but of course that was impossible.

When she looked up at him again, he was licking his lips.

Ruby had been right.

It was time to earn her first 10 points.

“Are they genuine?” she asked, taking a step closer.

“I’ve never actually seen them in person before. Just photographs in books on the matter.”

“Then you’d better take a closer look.”

“ _Minx_ ,” he hissed, leaping forward and snaking an arm around her waist, the other tossing his cane aside in favor of tangling in her hair. His kiss was bright and amazing, sealing over her mouth in a possessive manner, thumb pushing up at her jaw line to bring her closer to him. The kiss was open mouthed and his tongue plundered her immediately, sending funny jolts of electricity all over her, causing her chest to shudder from the lack of air.

10 points, she thought.

She pushed at the lapels of his jacket, and he obliged her request. His teeth scraped along her tongue clumsily in the effort to rid himself of the garment, but she found she loved the feeling. He started to suck on the tip of her tongue, causing her to gasp, and at her turn she sucked in his bottom lip. One hand was at her nape drawing her closer, the other still tight at her waist. Both of her hands were still holding up her skirt, so she moved one into his hair, and the other to cup his hardened length.

“ _Oh_ ,”he moaned into her mouth. “What _game_ are you at, girl?” he asked.

“Do you object?” she asked.

“Certainly not.”

“Then please,” she said, reaching for her skirt once more, “tell me if they’re genuine.”

He took her lips once more before gripping the fabric of the skirt himself, pushing his hand underneath and wrapping it around to squeeze her rear.

20 points.

His lips moved from her mouth to her ear, tongue dancing inside before tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. Belle arched her back up into him, pressing her breasts against him, and he dipped his head to her throat, placing hot, open mouthed kisses everywhere her flesh was available. He nipped at her collar bones, first gently, then hard, leaving her panting in delight as his teeth drew against her. He bit her neck, sucking hard, and she felt a burning sensation all the way deep in her belly. He had left marks, she knew, and delightfully looked forward to tallying all of them later.

He turned the two of them, encouraging her to lean back against the counter but remain standing. He placed one last kiss behind her ear, sucking and biting the flesh, before he trailed down, kneeling in front of her, one leg at a funny angle to avoid straining his injured ankle. She thought of offering another position for his comfort, but the sudden expression of reverence on his face wasn’t one she wanted to interrupt.

Her hands trembled as she held the hem of her skirt up for him to get a thorough look. His eyes had glazed over and he brought both hands up to caress her thighs, thumbs carefully running along the hem of the delicate undergarments until they joined in the middle at her apex. He moved a thumb up over the fig leaf, tracing it carefully, taking special care to apply firmer pressure along its stem.

“If they’re inauthentic, will I be able to return them?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“It seems as though you’ve already soiled them, sweetheart,” he said, voice dark, fingers brushing over the moistened nylon that covered her sex, her arousal creating a visible sheen through the netting.

“Feel me,” she said.

He brushed his fingers against her more purposefully, massaging her, but she reached down for his hand to stop him. Carefully, she brought his hand up to her naval, then pushed his hand down beneath the garment, forcing him to cup her naked self, push his fingers along her slit, and slide with her juices.

30 points.

“Coat them,” she said, “thoroughly.”

She showed him the rhythm she liked, and he watched her face with admiration as he saw what his manipulations did to her. She felt like she was burning, something electric and sweet, and didn’t want to stop just yet, but reached down to pull his hand out and bring it to his face. “Now taste me,” she said.

He put his fingers in his mouth, sucking off all of her, and she cupped his face tenderly as he did. “Please,” he said, “let me do it again.”

40 points, with so many more to go.

She nodded, and this time he reached up to hook his thumbs into the top sides of the panties, and guided them down her legs. He noted her waxed sex, and nuzzled his nose up to it, cupping her again with his hand.

A finger slid in. 50 points.

“Ah!” she cried out, moaning with his motions. Did each individual finger count? He kept working at her, pumping the finger in and out slowly. And then 60 points. 70. “ _Ah!_ ”

He leaned forward to suck on one exposed hip bone, and then the other. He left dark marks as he did so, (80, 90) and he wasn’t sure he’d seen anything so beautiful as the blooming purple from his lips and tongue against her pale skin.

“Grow out your curls for me,” he crooned, before bumping his nose against her clit, already peeking out from its hood. “God, you do want me,” he said.

“Did you doubt it?” she panted.

“Entirely,” he said.

He nuzzled her with his nose over and over, first high with light kisses then lower until he found her clit again. 100 points. The nub was so swollen the light bump of him had her hissing, and she heard his faint “ _Let me, Belle_ ” before she groaned out her approval and he opened his mouth onto her.

This was what she’d been waiting for. Yes, yes! 110 points.

“You're mine if we do this,” he said.

“And you're mine,” she said.

“Deal.”

She had been able to bring herself to orgasm from her own hand before, and could count on that hand just how many times her previous boyfriend Gary had given her an orgasm (twice) but this something completely new. Gold leaned forward to suck in one lip, then another, until he was running his tongue up and down along her slit, teasing before the thrusting began.

He persuaded her to prop her legs onto his shoulders so he could be on his knees supporting her and have better access to bury his face in her. Again, she worried for a moment about his injured leg, but he wasn't making any sort of fuss about it, and it certainly wasn't slowing him down.

When his tongue finally pushed into her (120 points) she knew she'd lose it soon.

She braced her hands on his shoulders for fear she'd topple over, and he brought out a hand to press firmly against her stomach to keep her upright. It was the hand that had been fucking her, and it was covered in her juices, which now coated her chiffon top. He was flicking his tongue against her clit, over and over, then sucking, gently then hard, repeat, repeat, then thrusting into her again, and it was too much and too little all at the same time, and the burning sensation was eating her alive, and she was bound to fall any minute, and then finally _fuck yes_ she was coming all over his face and her hips were involuntarily thrusting into him as the flat of his tongue lapped her up.

130 points.

When he released her, she shimmed off the counter and helped him to stand as best as she could on her shaking legs. Once up, he planted a kiss on her immediately, crushing her to him and she felt his hardness against her stomach and her sweetness on his mouth.

"I want to see you," she gasped when she got the chance to pull away. “Take off your clothes.”

"Take off yours," he said, already whipping off his waistcoat.

"You'll do that for me."

He made a funny squeak in the back of his throat, but she swatted his hands away when he reached for her.

"You first," she said. "I want to see you."

A funny glint passed over his eyes, and she winced. "Still don't trust me, do you? What do you think I’m going to do?"

"Run away once I'm bare. Humiliate me."

"No," she whispered, "I'd never do that. I’m yours now, remember?"

She stepped forward, deciding that the 10 points she needed to get him to strip himself could be made up for in other ways. She started with his tie, kissing the knot then dragging it through his collar before folding it with care and setting it down. Then she undid his buttons, each one sounding a delicate snap between her fingers, just as she imagined they would, until she had his shirt unbuttoned and ready for her to explore. She glided her fingers up and down the smooth flesh, and he let out a heavy breath.

"Not going anywhere, am I?"

"We're nowhere interesting yet."

"I find this very interesting," she said, pushing his shirt down his shoulders. He closed his eyes, reluctant to look at himself, and she reached up to kiss both cheeks and then both eyelids.

“Open them,” she said.

He did, slowly, and the reality of just how shy he was under her gaze made her whimper. This man who had just licked her into ecstasy was shy to receive his own pleasure from her.

"Mine. Yours," she said. "Remember?"

"I do," he nodded. She placed a kiss on his nose, which seemed to make matters worse as he winced, feeling childish, so she kissed his mouth, first rubbing her lips against his, unpursed, just the feel of lips dragging against lips, until he swallowed her mouth in a kiss while cupping her face and grabbing at her hair. She reached down to pinch his nipples lightly, then more firmly when she felt the pleasurable shudders she sent through him.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he strained.

“I know exactly what I’m doing to you,” she muttered against his lips.

When he pulled away, she nuzzled her face into his neck, skimming her hands down his thin body and lapped at his nipples, enjoying those shudders again, then dragged her tongue over his taut stomach, tracing the trail of hair that led to his belt line. She undid the belt carefully, her fingers not terribly practiced with the act, but managing just fine. She unzipped him, then bent down to ease his pants down his legs, trailing kisses as she did. She pressed a soft kiss against his erection through his boxers, then another against dark stain its head had created against the fabric.

When fully nude, he stood before her, erection jutting out and so beautiful she wanted to take it in her mouth. Drops of his arousal leaked from the tip and she wanted to lick them up. Her inner muscles were clenching in anticipation just at the sight.

“Now you,” he said. She nodded.

He stepped forward, and she cupped his biceps as he looked down on her, first reaching up to release the pins from her hair that held it half up. He buoyed his hands through her hair once it was free, kissing the top of her head and sighing heavily. He traced the swell of her breasts along the neck of her top, then helped her to remove the shirt, a slightly difficult affair as it had been tucked into her skirt, which he lowered swiftly once he found the zipper. He made no move to remove her thigh highs or heels, and she loved him for it.

140 points.

Her sex was already bare to him, but he had yet to enjoy her breasts. He palmed them through the lacy fabric of her bra (150 points) then bent down to kiss their swells, dipping his tongue beneath the fabric and lapping at her nipples. The sensations were driving her wild and she reached down to gently rub her still throbbing clit, and reached her other hand forward to wrap around his cock.

“ _Fuck_ Belle,” he hissed.

“Yes,” she said, “fuck me.”

They laid down on the floor together, each helping the other down, and he rested on top of her, bringing his attention back to her breasts. She shuddered when he licked roughly at them, and cried out when he bit her nipples. He grabbed his cane next to him and ran it down along her swollen and dripping slit, a heavy line of juice catching and dribbling around its handle. She sighed at the sensation, and watched with lust as he licked the handle clean. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind toys after all. 160.

She surprised him by rolling them over, pushing on his shoulders and pinning him into place beneath her. When she started to scoot down, he jerked up and grabbed at her to stop.

“I know where you’re going,” he said.

“You don’t want me to?” she pouted.

“Of course I do. But it’s been so long, Belle. If you do that now I won’t last for the best part.”

She smiled at his phrasing. “Have you ever touched yourself at the thought of me?” she asked.

He gaped at the sudden question.

She kissed his fingertips. “I’ve touched myself thinking of you plenty of times,” she said. “I touched myself thinking of you just this morning.”

He groaned at her confession. “Did you, now?”

“So have you?”

“I have.”

“And do you last long?”

He yanked her back up to him, kissed her roughly. “Sometimes.”

170, she thought, for admitting their mutual masturbation to one another. “Then you can last for me now,” she said, escaping his grasp and crawling back down again.

“Belle!” he worried.

“Please?” she asked. “Just a lick?”

He didn’t say anything, but smiled and shook his head playfully.

She loved the way his cock looked, swollen and purple just for her, the tip continuing to leak. She ran her fingers down its length before wrapping them around the base, and he stiffened beneath her. She moved her hand away and cupped his balls instead, massaging them lightly, causing him to groan, and when she bent down to give a tentative lick to the underside of his head Gold cried out and jerked back up into a sitting position.

“Enough,” he gruffed, grabbing her by the underside of the shoulders and hoisting her up. She smiled at him, and heard him mutter “ _Minx!_ ” again under his breath before he resettled them with his back against the wall and she in his lap. She maneuvered the rest of the way so they were both cross-legged, she wrapped around him, and reached down in between them to grab his cock again. She was trembling visibly in anticipation so he leaned forward to paint her face in tiny kisses before he was forced to nuzzle into her neck as she’d started rubbing his head against her clit frantically. But it was time, now.

She eased him into her entrance, wet and hot, and she winced at the initial tightness. “Easy,” he coaxed her, but his voice was strained, and she could tell he was fighting himself to not thrust up into her. He felt wonderful, so she threw her head back and let the rest of her weight sink onto him, impaling herself completely with a shriek.

“Yes, _ah_ , fuck yes, Belle!” he muttered in tight gasps as she began to bounce atop him. She liked that he’d sat up, because the friction of his skin against her breasts and clit were rubbing together beautifully. The glorious 100 points were now hers, though the position wasn’t exactly as Ruby had requested, but she congratulated herself anyway for a grand running total of 280.

“Do you know what this feels like for a girl?” she panted in between drops. “To be full, to be filled up completely? To be so wet for you? It’s _heaven_ , to have you stretching me, _fucking_ me, loving me. Ah, _God_ , Gold! I love how you fill me!”

“Then I’ll always fill you,” he said, husky and dark.

He had pulled her head back by the hair, lavishing her throat with kisses and bites, muttering “mine, _God_ , you’re mine, I’ve always wanted you and now you’re _mine_ ,” until he decided he wanted even more of her. He gripped down on her hips in an effort to pound her down onto him harder, enjoying watching her breasts bounce in rhythm with the efforts, and it worked for awhile until he decided he wanted _more_ and flipped them down so she was on her back underneath him and he was thrusting into her from above. Somewhere in his mind he registered a sharp pain in his leg, but it subsided quickly and he ignored it in favor of driving into her.

She pulled her knees up higher, somehow managed to tally 290, and pressed her heels into his buttocks as he took her harder. He cried out in a strange painful joy at the spiky feel of her heels in him, running an appreciative hand up and down her leg, grasping on the elastic hem of her thigh high stocking and pulling it back to smack against her. She arched her back in rhythm with his thrusts, and he dipped his forehead down to hers to let the sheen of their sweat mingle, and their breaths to be shared in heavy pants.

He bit down on her neck again, snaking his hand between their bodies to rub at her bundle and with a few more thrusts she was coming again, gleefully yelling his name and hoping it was enough to crash through the windows and bleed all the way over to Granny’s for Ruby to hear. Tremors raced through her and she felt her inner walls clenching him in an effort to drag him deeper, to fill her up more, and the sensation had him crying his own prayer into the shop and out to all of Storybrooke. Hearing her name in his moan and feeling him spill hot inside her was the epitome of what she wanted from this experiment, and she smiled smugly at the satisfaction of seeing him come undone.

He collapsed on top of her with a moan and she wrapped her arms around him, clinging tightly to him. She felt strange lines carved into his back and realized she must have been dragging her nails down his back when she came. He didn’t seem to have minded.

“So. Are they genuine?” she asked after a moment of joined breathless panting.

“Your Eve’s Leaves? Yes. Sure. Fuck. I don’t know. They’re yours, you look fucking great in them, that’s all that matters,” he said, pulling out of her with a stifled groan and rolling to his side. The loss of warmth was jarring but he pulled her into him, back to chest, and cradled her as best he could on the floor while they continued to pant.

“Not anymore,” she said. “They’re yours.”

He smiled into her shoulder.

“And I get to keep your tie,” she said.

He laughed. “Save that offer to suck me off for later and you can have all my damn ties.”

She laughed, breathless and tired. “You can count on it.”

He ducked his face into her hair, his hot breath tickling her neck in its slowing pants, and she relished the feeling. He had one arm draped above him in a makeshift pillow and the other over her cupping her breast, and she took the languid moment to try counting up the rest of her tally. She was somewhere around 300 but her mind was getting hazy and she couldn’t focus.

“So how high did we get?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“You were counting.”

“I'm – I’m sorry . . . I didn't realize I was doing that out loud. I was tallying points for Ruby's challenge.”

“Ruby’s . . . ?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s why I came,” Belle explained. “She knew how much I liked you . . . she made up this challenge for us to seduce our crushes to kind of, well, get us out of our shy ruts with you.

He was quiet for a moment, then laughed softly, and she felt him shaking his head. “And the counting was?”

“10 points for every remotely sexual act we perform.”

“We only got to 300?”

“It was our first time,” Belle shrugged, laughing softly. “Next time I’ll spank you and wiggle my pinky in you and whatever else you’ll let me do.”

He smacked her bottom with a loud slap. “There,” he mumbled. “310.”

Belle sniggered back several giggles. “Ruby would be so proud.”

“Miss Lucas has my applause,” he said.

Belle turned around to face him, caressing his face and unabashedly staring into his eyes with a smile. He returned the smile, and after a few moments of lazy kissing, he pulled away and said,

"So. Who'd Ruby go after?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruby's next! This was my first attempt at smut so there ya go. Panties can be seen here: [Belle's Eve's Leaves panties](http://nerdrumple.tumblr.com/post/97752831237/nerdxrumple-belles-eves-leaves-panties-from)


	3. Chapter 3

“Dr. Hopper,” Ruby said in greeting, falling into step with him on the sidewalk. He’d just left his office at 12:02 on the dot as he did for every lunch hour, making his way to Granny’s. He reached up to readjust his glasses, and he was wearing his normal tweed suit and Ruby about swooned face first into the street from the sight of him.

“Ruby!” he smiled broadly at her, looking genuinely surprised, before pulling his eyebrows down in confusion. “Wait, aren’t you . . .?”

“It’s my day off,” she chirped. She looped her arm through his and startled him again by turning them around, back towards his office. “But lucky you, you still get to see me. And guess what? I’ve got a surprise.”

The arm that wasn’t looped through his had been hiding behind her back, and she pulled it out now to reveal a large brown to-go bag with Granny’s logo across it.

“You . . . you got me lunch?”

“I got _us_ lunch,” she corrected, handing him the bag. His hands fumbled to catch it while he smiled shyly at her. “Thought we could enjoy it back at your place. Nervous I didn’t get what you’d like? Have no fear. I serve you every day, your taste buds aren’t exactly a mystery. Turkey and ham on rye, lettuce, tomato, extra pickles, easy on the mustard . . . am I missing anything?”

“I, uh, usually also get waffle-cut fries?”

“Hmm, you’re right. Better check to make sure they’re in there.”

He peered into the bag momentarily, and smiled again. “Yup. And a little crispy, just how I like them.”

She winked at him, curling her arm around his a little tighter. She was delighted at the shade of red that had crept up his neck. And that she’d managed to trot them right back up the path to his office without a word of complaint. It was giving her that spark she needed to continue. She had hoped an immediately assertive attitude would get them tucked safely back into his room, and though he looked up momentarily once or twice with an expression that teetered on protest, he dutifully pulled out his keys and started to unlock the door.

Once inside, they navigated the hallway to his room and he set the bag on his desk. He sat on it himself, turning to face her, but she was already flitting about the room.

“I’ve always wanted to see your office!” she said cheerily, picking up various knick knacks and putting them back in the wrong place. She turned to face him again, removing her brimmed hat and hooking it on his coat rack. She then started to undo her coat, trying with little effect to shuck it from her shoulders.  

“Oh,” he started from the desk. “Let me.” He rushed over to her side and helped her slip the coat off her arms, revealing a sleeveless red blouse and black mini skirt with black tights. She had originally planned on nudity, but Belle had insisted otherwise. She was happy for the advice, because the look Archie gave her when she turned around to remove her scarf, and the way his eyes dipped to see that the first several buttons of her blouse were undone, and a delicate gold pendant was resting down between her –

“Thank you, Archie,” she said while he gulped audibly. His eyebrows were narrowing and she was hoping to keep them flown up for this entire experience, so as she turned to head towards the chair across his desk she carefully swooped her hair to one side, revealing her long neck. Looking back, she was sure she’d hit her target. Or had she? Archie was making the same expression he always did when he looked at her: awe and longing.

“Not hungry?” she asked, when he’d yet to move towards their lunch. Or her.

“What? I. No. I mean. Very, actually. Yes, let’s eat.” He moved back to the desk, tossing his coat aside and rummaging carefully in the bag she’d brought before setting his sandwich down.

She plopped down in the chair, elbows on her knees and chin in hand, an intentional view of her cleavage in front of him. “Long day?” she asked, lowering her voice a notch.

“Ah, well,” he said, reaching up to rub his neck. “Still early. Don’t really know yet,” he smiled.

“You work hard,” Ruby commented.

He pursed his lips, said nothing, nodded. When she reached out to touch his knee, he jumped up about a mile and almost fell off the desk.

He stumbled to the side, stifling his embarrassment, and she ignored his nervousness, instead standing up and reaching for his elbow to help steady him. In her sky high heels she easily met his eyes if not taller, so she kicked them off nonchalantly and took his same seat on the desk, pushing the bag close to him with her index finger.

“Go on and look in the bag again,” she said with a crooked smile. “I put in a little something extra for you, Ace.”

“Ace?”

“ _To Kill a Mockingbird_. That’s a thing, right? Ace?”

“I. Er. Yes? No. No. That’s not in _To Kill a Mockingbird_.”

“Okay, but it works with Archie right? It’s a good nickname for you.”

“Archie’s already my nickname. It’s short for Archibald.”

“What? Are you serious?” Ruby lit up, a smile beaming off her face, goofy and interrupting her attempt at seduction. “That makes this _so much_ _better_.”

“It does?”

“Look in the bag, Archibald. I added a little something extra to your usual. Something to enjoy after.”

He dug around at her request. “Pickles?” he asked. “Thanks, Ruby, I—”

“We’ve already established that there are pickles.”

He reached into the bag again. “Roast beef on sour dough?”

“That’s my sandwich, Ace.”

He dug more, setting each item on his desk carefully. “Coleslaw?”

She tried to hide her frown. “Okay, a _little_ deeper. Extra as in . . . dessert.”

“Cookies! Oh Ruby, you shouldn’t have.”

“What? Yes, all right, there are cookies, but dig a little deeper . . . er.”

Feeling quite dumb, Archie looked up at her for help. Her mouth was curled into that same smile as before, so he reached into the bag again, toiling around a bit until his fingers happened upon a tiny, foil wrapped square. He pulled it out, and immediately dropped it, and the bag.

“Something wrong?” Ruby asked, gathering both the square and bag into her hands before putting them back into his. He held onto the paper bag dumbly, and it wasn’t until he shoved both items onto the desk that Ruby’s confidence started to dip. Something in his eyes had fallen, and she worried she’d gone about this all wrong. She should have listened to Belle. He was not her typical conquest, after all.

“Ruby, this really isn’t necessary.”

She looked away from him and down at the condom that had haphazardly skidded towards his work papers.

“Necessary," she said, forming the word carefully with her full lips as he watched her. “I disagree. Lunch might not be as important as breakfast, but I still think it’s a vital meal—“

“This,” he said, fumbling awkward gestures towards not-the-lunch, “is not necessary.”

_I showed him too soon_ , Ruby thought. _I should have waited until we’d talked longer. Or until he was fed._

“Are you saying no?” she asked, hoping to just cut this conversation short if that the direction he was steering it in.

“No!” he blubbered. “No, I’m just, I’m just saying, you can make an appointment like everyone else. You don’t have to . . . ”

“I pretty sure an appointment isn’t how these things are normally done.”

“An appointment is _exactly_ how this is done. To keep things professional, to keep things distant, to keep things safe.”

She gaped her mouth at him in disbelief. “You go on some weird ass dates, Archie.”

“Dates?” he said slowly. “You . . . this is a date?”

“Well. Yeah. I know it’s thrown together and kind of a surprise, but yes. This was meant to be a date.”

He was quiet for a moment. “That’s not necessary.”

“You keep saying that. I don’t want _necessary_ , Archie _._ I want—“

“So you’re not here for a self-soothe session?”

It was at this moment that Ruby realized they were talking about two completely different things. “A what?”

“I don’t advertise it. It gets around by word of mouth. You’re not here for a self-soothe session?”

“What’s a self-soothe session?”

Archie sighed, seeming either relieved or more stressed, Ruby couldn’t tell. He ducked behind the desk and fell into his chair without grace, running his hands over his hair. After a moment or two of avoiding her eyes and adjusting his glasses several times, she took a seat across from him.

“I’m listening,” she encouraged.

He leaned forward and steepled his hands in front of her before dropping them again. “You’re sure you’re not here for a self-soothe session? Maybe you heard it called something else? You really don’t know?”

“I think we’ve established the Ruby-not-knowing bit.”

He licked his lips, and she watched as he slipped into a kind of trance, putting on his Professional Face. “I offer lessons to women who feel unsatisfied in their private lives. Or are satisfied with the love they have for their partners, but for whatever reason haven’t been able to achieve personal satisfaction.”

“So. Orgasm.”

“Yes. Orgasm.”

“And you help them?” Ruby balked, all grace gone from her posture, leaning forward like she was ready for juicy gossip. “So, you, what, you sleep with them?”

“No, _no_ , Ruby. _Self_ soothe. Self pleasure. I teach them how to achieve orgasm on their own.”

The balking wouldn’t stop. Ruby was all balked up. “You teach women how to _masturbate_?”

A sigh, then, “Yes. I teach women how to properly masturbate.”

“So you know where the clit is!”

“Yes, I know where the clitoris is.”

“This is . . .  this is _amazing_. This is the best!”

Archie went into Professional mode again. “Female masturbation and orgasm is, unfortunately, a great mystery to many women. And men, of course. It was considered highly taboo until only recent years. For centuries, women suffering from sexual frustration were blamed for their inability to achieve orgasm and labeled with female hysteria. They were blamed, you see, instead of inadequate partners. They were sent to mental wards, treated terribly. That is, until the invention of the vibrator.”

Archie turned around and wiggled his swivel chair over to a small cupboard along the side wall, where he opened it to reveal several phallic toys on display.

“Holy shit!”

“Women would go to see their doctor and be ‘treated’ with a vibrator until they achieved orgasm. Which, when doctors realized exactly what they were doing, soon labeled the whole thing taboo again. Vibrators didn’t come back into vogue until the early 70s.”

“So . . . you ‘treat’ women?”

“I show them how to treat themselves. These actually aren’t the ones I use, they’re just the display models. These are the ones I use.” He opened a lower shelf to reveal packaged dildos and vibrators, tiny bullets, massagers, and other toys. “I let the woman choose what seems the most . . . enticing, and we take it from there.”

“What if she doesn’t like her first choice?”

“That rarely happens, but I let them try whatever they want. Until they feel comfortable experimenting on their own. Or confident enough to browse online. They get to keep whatever they try here, and the price is just tacked onto their bill. Some women don’t want toys, of course. I also teach women how to achieve pleasure at their own hand.”

“Is this . . . is this _illegal_?”

Archie half smiled but also looked away. “It’s a side business,” he said simply, reaching up to close the cupboard.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ruby said, stopping him, reaching forward to keep the cupboard open.

“Do you want to try one?” he asked, mouth sounding dry.

It was tempting at first–she'd yet to try a rabbit—but she declined, more interested in committing the display to memory. And convincing herself that this was really happening.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You have _private_ sessions with women who you _privately_ teach how to find _private_ pleasure with their _privates_?”

“Personal private pleasure lessons. Yes. And you just did that so you could say ‘private’ over and over.”

“And you thought I came here to get in on a private pleasure session?”

“Which you could have just set up with my secretary.”

“How would I have _possibly_ approached that topic?”

“By calling it a ‘self-soothe session,’” he said with a smile.

“That’s your _code_?”

“That’s my code,” he said, closing up the cabinet and trying to hide a laugh.

He rose and they wandered back over to the desk together. He fiddled with the wrapper around his sandwich while she reached down and fiddled with the condom.

“So,” he whispered. “Do you think less of me now that you know I'm the town tart?”

She laughed quietly. “No, not at all. Up until now I thought I held that title.” She reached under her skirt to bring out a pair of hand cuffs and a blindfold. “As you can see, I wasn’t exactly interested in self soothing.”

Archie’s eyes grew wide as she placed the items on the desk next to their untouched lunch. “But why would you . . .?” 

“Archie,” Ruby said seriously, “I wasn't aware of your . . . side business. I honestly wanted to seduce you and then, you know, go out for coffee later.”

The look he gave her was one of such genuine astonishment she wanted to kiss him right then and there.

“Usually that’s done the other way around, isn’t it?” he smirked.

“Usually, yes,” she smirked back. “But I operate best under nefarious means. I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“You’re a wolf in wolf’s clothing,” he said.

She laughed. “I thought I was good at this. Seduction. But I guess I’m just used to guys who wither at the first smile they see. Usually this takes little convincing.”

“Well, this is just all very sudden.”

Ruby chewed at her lip. “Yeah. But if . . . _this_ is something you do on the regular, why were you fumbling like a beautiful, wonderful moron earlier?”

“Moron?” he pouted.

“Beautiful. Wonderful.”

He smiled pathetically and cast his eyes down. “Because you just surprised me. Because you’re not a _client_ , you’re . . . you’re Ruby. I can’t be . . . detached. Not when I’m around you.”

She couldn’t help it. The expression he wore now was an accumulation of everything she liked about him; the shyness, the tweed, the glasses, the sweetness. The looks he’d given her across the diner, the sheepish smiles and giggling talk when she brought him his order, when they met on the street. She reached for his face now, and he jumped slightly as she cupped it gently between her hands, allowing him plenty of time to realize what she was doing, and then she kissed him.

He groaned softly into the kiss, and his hands were buried in his pockets but she pulled them out and wrapped them around her waist. She kept the kiss light, tucking away her temptation to ravish him with her tongue. Not just yet, anyway.

She moved away and kissed tenderly along his jaw line, up to his ear, leaving a patch of red in her wake. “Cancel the rest of your appointments today,” she whispered into his ear.

He nodded, hands knotting at the fabric of her blouse when she kissed him again, then calmly reached over and busied himself with the intercom and his secretary until his afternoon was free. 

“Do you ever get your own pleasure from the women?” Ruby asked when he was hers again.

He shook his head, like he needed to clear it before coming back into the conversation. “Knowing I've helped someone in need is the only pleasure I need to receive.”

“Well, _yeah,_ but I mean . . . _pleasure,_ ” she emphasized with her hands in a gesture that, if performed, probably wouldn’t be pleasurable. “Do you ever, you know . . . _fuck_ them?”

_Fuck_ wasn't a word Ruby had felt the need to whisper since she'd tried it out on her lips for the first time as a young teen. And as such, she felt a certain giddiness she hadn't felt in a long time.

“You already asked me that,” he said, unable to help his own grin. “And no, that would defeat the purpose of teaching them how to achieve pleasure at their own hand.”

“Literally. _Their own hand_ ,” Ruby reeled. “But what about your own hand? Do you ever do yourself while you're doing them?”

“No. Miss Lucas—” 

“Ruby. Don’t get formal on me. We’re talking about masturbation. And fucking.”

“ _No_ , Ruby. I feel that would . . . alter . . . what this place is supposed to be. A safe haven. Where only their pleasure and their journey matters. To pleasure myself in front of them, even if they couldn't see, would make it about me.”

“But aren’t you ever tempted?”

He took her question seriously. “I'm a doctor, so I'm detached . . . but I'm not dead.”

She looked down, in a demure fashion not common of her. She circled her thumb inside his palm, watching the patterns before speaking. 

“When was the last time you were pleasured?”

He sighed. “I teach self pleasure. I'm not shy about the subject with myself.”

“But when were you last pleasured by someone else? When did someone last take care of you?”

It was the _take care of you_ that caught him.

“I like you, Archie.”

He gulped. “ _Ace_ ,” he chided. 

“Ace,” she smiled. “That's why I'm here, why I decided to do this. To show you, in my way, that I like you.” She moved closer to him, and this time he didn’t jump or back away.

“You said this place was a safe haven, a place to not be selfish. So . . . let me do something, just for you, for your pleasure, that isn't selfish for me.” She reached up to kiss him again, and he let her, fingers gripping tightly into her hips.

“I like you Ruby, I like you,” he said between kisses. “But you don’t have to do this, it’s not necessary—“

“I want to, you fool. Isn’t that already obvious?”

She was kneeling in front of him now. Massaging him through his trousers, purring at the hardness she felt there, smiling at the blush that took over his face.

“I thought you said you weren’t shy about this,” she cooed.

“This is _very different_ ,” he said as she started to release him from his clothes.

When she had him in hand she stroked him appreciatively, and his eyes shut tight and he hissed in a breath of pleasure.

“Relax,” she coaxed gently, “isn’t that what you tell your clients?”

“This is . . . _ah!_ This is _very different,_ ” he said again, moaning at the end.

“But is it all right?” Ruby asked.

At his nod, she took him in her mouth, slowly and gently, one hand at his base and the other rubbing reassuringly at his thigh, until she’d gotten the length of him in her and a beautiful rhythm of rubbing the flat of her tongue on him then hollowing her cheeks as she sucked softly.

He brought a hand down to pet her hair, whispering her name in something lovely and thankful. She started to feel the trembling of his legs threatening to buckle.

“I, I can’t, Ruby, I,” he stuttered.

“It’s okay,” she said after a sinful pop from her lips on his cock as she released him. “Lie down.”

He let her push him back, until they were on the floor in front of his desk, his head thrashing and her mouth moving again, suctioned to him tight while she dragged her nails down his sides before cupping his balls gently. She loved the feeling of him coming undone beneath her, and just as she was about to reach under him for a true surprise, his hand grasped for hers, intertwining their fingers and gripping her sweetly. The intimate gesture made her pause, only for a moment, until she continued sucking at him.

He’d started involuntarily bucking up into her, and she heard him curse softly in an attempt to stop himself, and then he was saying her name, not in the loving manner from earlier but in trying to get her attention.

“Please, I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

“Why not?” she asked, popping up and going back down.

“It’s, it’s demeaning, please don’t let me.”

She rose, seriously this time. “It’s not demeaning. Not for me and you, not for this. It’s intimate, and I want you to.”

He shook his head. “Please. I don’t like to. I don’t want to.”

She eyed him, tempted to keep convincing him, but it was important to respect his wishes. So she nodded and went back down on him, working him up into a frenzy until he pulled on her hair gently, and she released him as he spilled himself all over his stomach, moaning as she continued to pump and cup him, the feeling of his balls straining at what she’d done to him most satisfying.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he’d regained himself.

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, helping him clean up with some tissues.

“If you really wanted me to do that. Come in your mouth. I know some people love it, but, I don’t. I really don’t.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, cupping his face and adjusting his glasses. “I want you to be happy, and comfortable.”

“You too,” he said, kissing her, for the first time taking the initiative to do so.

She pulled lunch down for them, and they ate happily on the floor, chatting and chewing amicably. When she handed him a cookie, he shook his head and laughed with embarrassment at himself. “Dessert, she said. And I took her literally.”

She laughed too. “Well. In this case it was literal _and_ figurative.”

She handed him the condom then, waggling her eyebrows and pouncing for a kiss before he could say anything. He was underneath her again, and this time she didn’t feel the need to be gentle, or hold back with her tongue. She slipped her hand down to feel him hard again, and she smiled against his lips until he was pushing back at her slightly.

“You don’t want to?” she asked.

“I want to, _yes_ , I want to. Just, not here. Not where I see my clients. I shouldn’t have even let you go down on me here. Let me take you somewhere. Let’s do this somewhere special.”

“I always thought your house looked special. From the outside, anyway.”

He smiled, closing his eyes. “Let me show you the inside.”

Not only was Dr. Hopper the town authority on female masturbation assistance, but he seemed to have a thing for crickets when it came to decorating. He was full of surprises today. Ruby ooed and aahed and laughed at his trinkets and the funny print on his walls, until she led him by the hand into his bedroom and plopped the both of them on the bed.

“Oh, Ruby,” he sighed into her neck while she fiddled with his clothing.

“I _love_ your tweed _,”_ she said.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes. Now take it off.”

He laughed. She loved that she could make him laugh. _Take it all off_ , she’d instructed, and he obeyed beautifully. When he was finished she threw him beneath her onto the bed and purred merrily as he stroked her hair and neck.

“Please, may I . . . look at you? Touch you? Please, I just want . . . I want to see you.”

“Of course,” she said, voice warm and inviting.

He undressed her in a slow and careful manner, tender with each zipper and button until he was being tender with her breasts and navel. He situated them until they were lying on the bed, her back to his chest, she in between his legs.

“May I?” he asked, taking her hand and guiding her down to herself.

She stilled, the anticipation reaching a new height. “You may,” she said.

He gave a shuddering sigh, and watched her hand intently, covered by his own. Together they caressed her curls. “Indirect touch at first,” he said, starting the circles small with light pressure. "It also helps to start by rubbing your thighs, stomach, and breasts, but you’re already—“

“Wet?” Ruby said, pressing their hands against her slit.

He shuddered again, feeling her so slick for him. “Yes, yes,” he panted gently. She let him move their hands together, until he was showing her new patterns of stroking her labia, teasing her entrance and all-over rubbing and flicking that had her bucking her hips.

“Roll your clitoris between your fingers, like this,” he instructed, and she followed, throwing her head back at the burning sensation it shot through her. Her body was feeling so hot, and his fingers were so deft, she keened until he’d simply taken over, her hands kneading her breasts then fisting the sheets as he spread her legs wider. He rubbed viscously and wonderfully at her clit with one hand and finger fucked her with the other. She was soon writhing out her orgasm all over his hands and screaming his name.

He tweaked her body with a few more gentle flicks and rubs, giving her pleasurable aftershocks. He eventually let his hands wander when her writhing stilled, going up to massage her breasts and kiss her hair, face and neck while she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.

“It’s better with you,” she moaned. “It’s so much better with you here.”

“Yes,” he agreed with his own moan, and she reached behind to feel him rock hard and ready for her.

“Touch yourself too,” she said. “I want to see.”

She turned around and they resituated themselves on the bed, on their sides and facing each other, legs open so each could see what the other was doing. He took himself in hand like she’d said, long slow strokes that left him leaking and aching for her.

“How long?” she asked into his ear, biting the lobe. “How long has it been?”

“Years,” he confessed, straining.

“Give yourself to me, then.”

He nodded roughly, kissing her again and running a hand up and down her smooth side before pressing into her.

“Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!” Ruby panted, delighted at the feeling of him filling her up.

“Don’t stop,” he said, joining his hand with hers again as he reached her clit. “Keep going, it will be powerful.”

“And you?” she said, reaching over and caressing his rear, before gliding a finger down him and towards his entrance. “What about the male G-spot?”

“ _Ah!_ ” he cried out, her intentions clear. She ran her fingers over him teasingly before entering and curling until she felt the spot that would drive him mad.

“Gentle can come later,” she purred into his ear. “Pound into me.”

So he did.

Later, after he came powerfully inside her while her muscles clenched around him and he clenched around her finger, she would explain the challenge she’d set forth for herself and Belle. How she hadn’t even bothered to tally anything, much less follow her own rules. She expected him to giggle about it with her, but instead he grew very quiet.

“Ace?” she asked tentatively.

“You just keep surprising me,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know I was a . . . score.”

“Oh, Archie!” Ruby cried. “It’s not like that! If that’s all it was, I wouldn’t have told you. This was just my ridiculous way of giving myself permission to go after you. I’ll only truly score if we can do this over and over all the time. And you let me call you my boyfriend.”

He smiled again, that sheepish, anxious one, and she pet his hair and stroked his neck. “Truly?” he said.

“Truly,” she said, kissing his nose. “Belle, too. We both lacked the courage to go after our men.”

He nodded slowly, allowing Ruby to shower him with kisses and caresses. Then, after a brief question from him, she pulled his face close so she could whisper in his ear, and Archie gasped loudly before gulping, “Belle went after _who?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! Epilogue is next. Also, for some light reading: [Female Hysteria and the Sex Toys Used to Treat It](http://www.motherjones.com/media/2012/05/hysteria-sex-toy-history-timeline)


	4. Chapter 4

The weekend was over. The diner was welcoming its first Monday lunch patrons, but Belle had already been there for a half hour, eagerly exchanging her news with Ruby over the satisfying ache they both shared between their legs. Until she was frowning.

“You didn’t tally anything? This was _your_ challenge, Ruby!”

“I know,” Ruby smirked lazily, drawing out funny circles with her finger along the counter while the other cupped her chin. “I’ve never been good with numbers. Chemistry, though, that’s my subject.”

“Well you certainly know how to bring unlikely elements together,” Belle sighed with a smile. ”The Wolf and the Dildo King.”

Ruby reached forward to playfully smack her, and Belle noted that the shade of red she was turning rightly complemented her wardrobe and lipstick.

“And what about you? Panties Galore and the Wet Cane Wonder.”

“ _Shh!_ ” Belle cried, smacking Ruby now, but unable to hide her gleeful smile. “Did you even leave behind your panties?”

Ruby paused. “Actually, I think I forgot to wear any.”

“You basically failed your own challenge, Ruby. And you didn’t even complete it at his place of business.”

“I would call that the path of unusual, yet highly more regarded success, wouldn’t you? Besides . . . I’m pretty sure you didn’t finish at his place of business either,” Ruby guessed.

Belle’s smile grew impossibly wider. “It was _perfect_ ,” she cooed.

“So you went to his house?”

“Yes! Didn’t sleep at my place the last two nights. And guess what? It’s pink!”

“And Archie’s is covered in crickets,” Ruby held her hand forward for a high five, but Belle was raising an eyebrow. “Oh. Crickets as in décor, not . . . pest control.”

“Okay,” Belle shrugged, taking the high five.

The bell chimed as another patron walked in, and Belle would have dutifully ignored it if she hadn’t seen Ruby’s face suddenly go all dopey. Sure enough, an equally dopey face was approaching them.

“Boyfriend Archie,” Ruby smiled. “Turkey and ham on rye? The usual?”

“Of course, Girlfriend Ruby,” he said, returning the smile. “And I think I’d like something a little extra this time. Some dessert.”

Ruby pulled a barely sneaky smile and winked. “To go?”

“Oh, yes,” he said.

Belle rolled her eyes until the chime of the bell came again, and this time it was her turn to turn dopey.

“Belle,” Mr. Gold said when he reached her at the counter, greeting her with a kiss which she happily returned. The diner had gone silent as all eyes had turned to them, until Ruby dutifully sputtered a cough into her fist and everyone turned back around.

“Miss Lucas,” he said, turning his warm smile on her now. It was a peculiar one she’d never seen before, accompanied by a tone she’d never heard him use. He snaked a hand around Belle’s waist as he seated himself next to her, and had Ruby not set the challenge forward herself she could have never feigned to know how these two ended up sharing such an intimate look between one another.

“Mr. Gold,” Ruby returned. “Coffee to go?”

“Yes, yes,” he waved, eyes on Belle. “But most importantly: rent.”

“Ah. Yes.” Ruby said, words abrupt. “I’ll just go get that for you.”

“I believe I owe you my thanks, Miss Lucas. And I’d like to return it in kind.”

“Um?”

“Go ahead and knock $300 off for this month. As a gesture of my gratitude.”

“. . . _$300?_ ”

Belle nudged Gold under the counter. “Actually,” he corrected. “$310.”

Ruby smirked, understanding settling over her. “That’s a particularly precise number.”

She disappeared into the kitchen where, after a few moments, Granny’s voice could be heard echoing “ _$310_ _off? What did you do?”_ until she reappeared with coffee and a rubberbanded roll of bills that she slid across the counter to Gold with a wide smile. He accepted the money without so much as looking at her, as he was preoccupied with the chestnut haired beauty beside him. He gave Belle a kiss and a smile before bumping her leg lightly with his cane and exiting the diner.

“All right!" Ruby started excitedly, so much so that Archie and Belle both jerked at her enthusiasm. “Challenge #2. Operation: A Year Without Rent.”

“ _Ruby,_ ” both Belle and Archie groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me on this wonderful, smut-filled journey!


End file.
